


Real Hot Wings and Fake Hot Dates

by lets_talk_appella



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fake Dating, Fluff, Pitchmas 2018, fake dating for a discount on food, who hasn't done that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 21:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lets_talk_appella/pseuds/lets_talk_appella
Summary: “Hey, it’s okay,” Aubrey says with surprising gentility. “I’m a little nervous, too.”That makes Beca turn back to her in shock.“You are?”Aubrey nods and says, “Of course. If they figure us out, we’re not gonna get that discount.”Mitchsen fake dating fluff as a Pitchmas 2018 gift.





	Real Hot Wings and Fake Hot Dates

**Author's Note:**

> Made for Pitchmas 2018 for Tumblr user Superdecaffeinatednightmarestuff!

Beca isn’t sure how she gets herself into these kinds of situations. The kind of awkward, uncomfortable, and potentially incredibly humiliating situations that she ends up in at least 90% of the time when trying to do something that should be considered semi-normal.

She looks down at the table, at the way her fingers are intertwined with Aubrey’s against its surface. Before she can stop herself, she runs her thumb lightly over Aubrey’s skin, reveling in how soft it is.

“I moisturize,” Aubrey says, making Beca glance up.

To Beca’s relief, she doesn’t look annoyed or harsh, like she normally does in Bellas rehearsal. Instead, she merely looks amused, her eyes fixed on Beca’s and one side of her mouth quirked upward.

“Your skin is so soft,” Beca blurts, immediately feeling warmth rush to her face.

It makes Aubrey laugh, a chiming noise that assaults Beca’s senses; she’s always loved Aubrey’s laugh. It’s a shame she doesn’t do it more in rehearsals.

Still, the sound of Aubrey’s amusement at her expense makes Beca look away, turning her eyes to the restaurant interior, looking at but not really seeing the liberally placed green wreathes and white Christmas lights draped over the other tables. God, of course she would put her foot in her mouth almost immediately.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Aubrey says with surprising gentility. “I’m a little nervous, too.”

That makes Beca turn back to her in shock.

“You are?”

Aubrey nods and says, “Of course. If they figure us out, we’re not gonna get that discount.”

Beca’s stomach drops; that’s not why she’s nervous. She tries to play it off, though, with a quick smile.

Aubrey’s eyes have dropped to the menu, already scouring for what they both know is her favorite dish and their reason for coming to the restaurant: hot wings.

“But don’t worry,” Aubrey continues, not taking her eyes from the menu. “We’ve got grit on our side, and my dad says that’s all it takes to win. Well, grit and sweat, but close enough,” she adds with a wry grin.

Beca can only nod back, thinking privately that her hand _is_ starting to sweat, so maybe that’ll be enough. She realizes suddenly that this may have been a very foolish plan.

* * *

It had started innocently enough. After the last Bellas rehearsal before Christmas break, Aubrey had asked Beca to stay after for a moment. Beca cringed, sure she was about to be yelled at about something attitude-related yet again (it’s not her fault Aubrey likes outdated songs and choreo). Gloomily, she watched the others basically run out of the auditorium, probably afraid Aubrey was going to make them do extra cardio.

Chloe was the last one out, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll wait to walk with you, Bree,” as she closed the door behind herself.

Beca shifted her stance; whatever Aubrey had to say to her must be bad if even Chloe was running away. She sighed, preparing to hear the worst. It was a shame Aubrey seemed so set against her; Beca secretly thought they had a lot in common. She also found herself admiring Aubrey’s drive and bravery. To get back up on stage after the whole Pukegate thing… well, that’s just impressive. And she thought Aubrey was beautiful. She’d always had a thing for blondes.

“Beca,” Aubrey said, then stopped.

“Yeah?” Beca asked, trying to conceal her nerves with a snarky tone.

“Did you know Jimmy’s has a special on their hot wings for Christmas?”

Beca paused, completely thrown. She’d expected to be yelled at, not made aware of Christmas specials.

Aubrey must have seen her confusion. She sighed impatiently and elaborated, “You _know_. Jimmy’s. The hot wings. The good ones.”

It came back to Beca in a rush: a few weeks previously, she and Aubrey had bonded unexpectedly over a local restaurant’s (Jimmy’s) incredibly delicious but also incredibly spicy boneless chicken wings. Beca had brought in a takeout box of them before one rehearsal, and even the smell of the spicy buffalo sauce along was enough to bring tears to most of the Bella’s eyes. Stacie had even choked a little.

Aubrey alone had seemed unaffected by the spice, giving an appreciative nod. As it turned out, Jimmy’s hot wings were her favorite food, and she and Beca had had a brief bonding moment over it.

“Oh, right,” Beca said slowly, “those are really good.”

“Exactly,” Aubrey said. “And there’s a sale on them for the next week for Christmas. You can get 20 free.”

Beca felt her mouth water at the thought. “Free?” she asked, almost afraid to let herself believe in something so wonderful.

Aubrey nodded, clearly glad that Beca was finally catching on. “Free,” she repeated.

“Right. Okay, so… do you want to, like, go get some, or…?”

Aubrey hesitated, and Beca wanted to clap a hard to her own forehead. She’d been too eager; Aubrey probably hadn’t wanted to go with her but had only been letting her know about the sale. She was just about to backtrack and tell her not to worry about it, but then Aubrey spoke hesitantly.

“The thing is…” she took a deep breath that made Beca frown. “It’s just… it’s a couples discount. As in, you have to be a couple to get the wings.”

“Oh.”

Beca’s excitement puttered out like a deflating balloon. She wasn’t dating anyone, and she thought Aubrey knew that, but apparently not.

“Well, I mean,” she tried to rally, “I’m not, you know, seeing anyone, so I’m not sure –”

“We could pretend,” Aubrey cut her off suddenly.

The breath left Beca’s lungs in a surprised whoosh. She couldn’t have heard that correctly.

“What?” she managed, hearing the confusion in her own voice.

Aubrey crossed her arms somewhat defensively and stood up somehow even more ramrod straight. She cleared her throat before responding, “You know… pretend. To be a couple.”

Okay. So Beca hadn’t misheard anything. Her first impulse was to laugh; surely, Aubrey had to be joking. Who in their right might pretends to date someone for free chicken wings? It was ridiculous. It was insane. They’d probably be banned from Jimmy’s forevermore if they were caught, which would defeat the whole purpose. It was a crazy idea.

Beca’s second impulse was to say yes. The idea of being one half of a couple – even if it was fake – with Aubrey Posen was appealing, to say the least. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t imagined what it would be like to date Aubrey, to hold hands, and to kiss. Aubrey was stubborn, independent, and incredibly beautiful; Beca would be crazy _not_ to be attracted to her and want to date her.

Besides, those were some really good wings.

Aubrey watched her expectantly, her fingers tapping of her right hand tapping against the inside of her left elbow.

“I mean…” she hedged, finally finding her voice, “is that allowed?”

Aubrey shrugged. “How would they know we aren’t dating?”

Beca had to admit, that was a good point.

“I… okay,” she said slowly. “Yeah. Let’s do this. I’m free.”

Aubrey smiled at her – one of the first genuine smiles Beca though she’d seen from her – and dropped her arms to her sides. “Great,” she said, her voice free and light. “I’ll pick you up from your dorm at 6?”

Beca nodded, already feeling the faint stirrings of butterflies in her stomach.

* * *

Butterflies that Beca feels again now, with her fingers still laced with Aubrey’s on the tabletop.

They’re pretty much the only ones in the small, family-owned restaurant. There’s an older couple (Beca assumes they’re a couple) there as well, in a corner booth across restaurant, but they’re lost in their own world.

It makes the whole thing between her and Aubrey feel much more intimate. She realizes with a pang that it’s the first time she’s actually been alone with Aubrey for as long as she’s known her. It makes her panic; she should maybe be talking more instead of looking around in silence like a dolt.

“How long do we have to do this, the pretending?” she blurts, making Aubrey look up from the menu in something like surprise. Beca wants to kick herself; that had come out more harsh-sounding than she’d meant it to.

Aubrey half-shrugs, looking faintly apologetic as she replies, “Probably the whole time?”

Beca takes a deep breath, trying to get a handle on herself. She has to remind herself that Aubrey is just doing this to get a discount on some really delicious chicken wings. It’s not a real date.

“Okay,” Beca replies, hoping she seems nonchalant.

“Besides,” Aubrey whispers, leaning forward conspiratorially. Beca unconsciously mirrors her as she continues, “It’s not like we have to kiss or anything.”

Beca fights to keep her face blank, not wanting any sign of the disappointment she feels to show through. Thankfully, before she could reply, a waitress clad in the purple Jimmy’s shirt with her dark hair in a bun arrives at their table.

“Hi, my name’s Carla,” she says. “What can I get for you ladies?”

Her eyes flick down to their joined hands and back up.

“Waters, for both of us, please, and we’re ready to order right away,” Aubrey replies smoothly.

The waitress – Carla – merely raises a single eyebrow in a bored way and waits for Aubrey to continue.

“We’ll have the couple’s discount on the hot wings, please,” Aubrey places their order authoritatively. Normally, Beca hates it when other people order for her, but in this case, she doesn’t mind; she’s not sure she could have managed saying “couple’s discount” as naturally as Aubrey had.

She likes the way it sounded.

Carla’s eyes again drop to their entwined fingers, then rise to search Beca’s face. A small frown forms between her eyebrows. It makes Beca feel suddenly nervous; this is Georgia, after all, and while they may be in a larger city, it’s still the south in 2011, and same-sex marriage is still very illegal.

Aubrey’s hand tightens momentarily around Beca’s.

After a pause, the waitress nods and says smoothly, “Those’ll be up shortly. Ranch or anything?”

“Ranch is fine,” Beca manages, relief flooding her veins.

Carla nods again, scribbles on her notepad, and walks away. Beca half-expects Aubrey to tug her hand back right away, but she doesn’t, and Beca remembers that they have to keep up the fake dating charade until their bill comes. So, all she has to do is pretend to be in fake love with Aubrey while harboring a real secret crush that she has to keep hidden. Great.

Her unease must show on her face; Aubrey squeezes her hand again and says softly, “It’s okay. I don’t bite… much,” she adds with a wink that makes Beca’s stomach swoop.

“I thought winking was Chloe’s thing?” she asks, pleased that her voice doesn’t betray how much that wink had affected her.

Aubrey grins back. “Where do you think she learned it from?”

At that moment, Carla the waitress comes back with waters in hand. She sets them on the table silently, and Aubrey thanks her. Carla leaves and Beca reaches forward her free hand to take a sip of the water, totally at a loss for what to say. Aubrey intimidates her, just a little.

However, it doesn’t seem that Aubrey’s struggling to come up with conversation.

“So, what are you doing for Christmas?” she asks, appearing totally at ease.

Beca shrugs, the muscles in her back and shoulder tensing as she’s reminded of the upcoming holiday. “Nothing much,” she answers. “I’m seeing my dad and the st – and his wife for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, then coming back here to the dorms.”

Aubrey’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Really? Alone, over break?”

Shifting in her chair, Beca replies, “I don’t mind, really. I don’t like… I prefer being here.”

Aubrey scrutinizes her face carefully. For a moment, Beca experiences the uncomfortable feeling she’s being X-rayed.

“Well,” Aubrey sighs eventually, glancing away, “If you want someone to stay with, you’re always welcome in the house.”

“I – really?” Beca asks, pleasantly surprised at the offer.

Aubrey nods. “Yeah. You are a Bella, even if you’re a pain.”

“I… I might take you up on that, yeah,” Beca agrees slowly with a grin at Aubrey’s honesty. “But aren’t both of you going home?” She thinks it might be a little weird to be in the big Bella house by herself, even if it would make a change of scenery from her tiny dorm room.

“Chloe is, but I’m like you,” Aubrey replies, “I’m going home for the holidays, but I’ll be back right after New Year’s.”

As she speaks, her thumb runs over the back of Beca’s hand lightly. Beca’s not even sure she realizes what she’s doing, but everywhere Aubrey touches sends sparks shooting over Beca’s skin.

“Are you working?”

“No,” Aubrey answers instantly, an edge to her voice.

The hand in Beca’s freezes for a second, and it’s as if the temperature in the restaurant drops as Aubrey stares back at her, her expression steely. Taken aback, Beca opens her mouth to apologize – she hadn’t realized work would be such a sensitive topic – but then Aubrey takes a deep breath and her thumb resumes its path over the back of Beca’s hand.

“Sorry,” Aubrey breathes, the tension dropping from her shoulders and the atmosphere relaxing again. “I meant – yeah, I’m working, but it’s more that home is… it’s hard sometimes. My dad…” Aubrey takes another deep breath, “He’s… well, long story short, military family, and sometimes it’s hard to be good enough.”

She finally meets Beca’s eyes almost defiantly, as if daring Beca to make some kind of joke about it.

But Beca’s not about to laugh; she relates too strongly.

“Yikes, I’m sorry,” she says softly, leaning in a little.

Aubrey nods in acknowledgment, then shrugs. “It is what it is, you know?”

Warm an unexpected, a rush of liking mingled with empathy for Aubrey washes over Beca. She’s reminded again of the similarities between them. The impulse to lean forward and press her lips against Aubrey’s is suddenly so overwhelming that it takes everything she has to resist the urge. She doesn’t quite manage to keep her eyes from flicking down to Aubrey’s mouth and back up; by the way Aubrey’s right eyebrow arches just slightly, she wonders if she’s been caught. Before she can even try to stammer out an apology or explanation, though, Carla the waitress materializes out of nowhere with two heaping plates of steaming chicken wings.

“Here you are, ladies,” Carla drawls, very obviously bored with her job. She deposits the plates in front of them – 10 wings each – and walks away.

“Great, thanks,” Aubrey is quick to call after her, an uncharacteristic pink flush rising to her cheeks. It fades quickly, however, and Beca puts it down to the smell of the spicy sauce. The hot, peppery smell assaults Beca’s nostrils and makes her eyes water; she can’t wait to dig in.

She needs both hands for it, though. “Um, can I have my hand back?” she asks jokingly, giving Aubrey’s a little tug for emphasis.

“Oh!” Aubrey’s eyes widen. “Right, sorry!”

She releases Beca’s hand immediately, her cheeks again turning the lightest shade of pink. Beca allows herself to wonder if she’d actually forgotten they were even holding hands – and if she’s honest with herself, she does already miss the contact – but then shoves the thought from her mind; she _really_ doesn’t want to get her hopes up for something that isn’t there.

They dig in to their meals, only speaking occasionally. Beca waits for the earlier awkwardness to come rushing back in, but it never does. Instead, Beca finds herself increasingly at ease, more focused on Aubrey and what she has to say instead of the food in front of her.  

At some point, they end up leaning into each other, situated on the same side of the table rather than sitting across from each other. Beca’s not sure when or how it happens; all she knows is that every time Aubrey’s leg brushes hers, it sends pleasant tingles shooting through her entire body.

As they eat and chat – about the Bellas, about their classes, about life in general – Beca catches Aubrey’s eyes lingering on her more and more. They’re a lovely green shade, and normally Beca would hate the feeling of being watched, but she doesn’t mind so much when it’s Aubrey.

As they near the inevitable end to their meal, the air around them seems to thicken. Beca pokes at her chicken wings slowly, wanting to draw out this fake date as long as she can. Some time ago, though – maybe around the time they’d moved to the same side of the table – the date had started to feel very, alarmingly, enchantingly real. Beca rather thinks Aubrey’s started to take her time with her own food, chasing the last wing around her plate with a fork.

When a hand brushes Beca’s thigh under the table, so casually that it might be an accident, Beca nearly jumps out of her skin. If Aubrey hears or feels anything strange, though, she doesn’t comment.

Finally, though, Beca can’t realistically prolong the end of her meal any longer. She finishes the last bite of her wings, the ordinarily delicious chicken tasting strangely dry as she realizes it means their “date” is over.

As if she’d been watching them, Carla the waitress zooms to the table with their bill the instant Beca’s plate is clear.

“There’s no charge for the wings,” she says, reaching for their empty plates. “You two make a cute couple.”

Beca has to fight to maintain a poker face; she’d sort of forgotten that they’d done this whole thing just to get free food.

“Thank you,” Aubrey answers for them both yet again, her voice coming out a little throaty.

Beca glances at her questioningly, but Aubrey only reaches to link their fingers together again. Aubrey rises from the table slowly, and Beca follows with a twinge of reluctance. She really doesn’t want their date to end.

For a dangerous moment, she allows herself to imagine what it would have been like had this been a real date between them. If Aubrey’s hand in hers would have felt differently, more meaningful. If they would have started the date on the same side of the table. If she really could have leaned to kiss Aubrey in the middle of dinner.

It would have been perfect.

Beca allows her thumb to drag across the back of Aubrey’s hand one more time as they walk to the restaurant’s door. They can probably stop acting like a couple, she supposes, but she tells herself to wait until they’re outside.

She allows herself to indulge in the fantasy for just a little longer.

But then they’re at the door and she’s pushing it open with a deep breath, steeling herself to drop Aubrey’s hand and resume the very firm position of “just friends,” when Aubrey tugs her to a stop.

“Wait.”

“What?” Beca glances back, only to see Aubrey looking up at the door frame above their heads. She follows Aubrey’s gaze upward, and her stomach pangs at the sight of the mistletoe hanging above them. Her mind goes blank; she can’t remember if that had been hanging there when they’d entered.

“Mistletoe,” Aubrey whispers somewhat unnecessarily.

She takes a step closer to Beca.

Beca shoots a half-glance back into the restaurant, wondering if Aubrey’s putting on a show for their waitress or for the hostess, but no one is paying them any attention.

She looks back to Aubrey and almost jerks away on instinct; Aubrey has moved much too close now. So close that Beca can see the determination in her eyes mixed with something _more_ that makes Beca’s toes curl in her shoes and breath freeze in her lungs.

“Beca, I… can I kiss you?”

The way Aubrey breathes out those last four words – her voice fragile but hopeful – tells Beca that this isn’t for anyone else’s benefit. They aren’t putting on a show for free food anymore. Aubrey actually wants to kiss her.

Beca’s brain short-circuits, but she still hears herself whisper, “Yes.”

And then they’re both leaning forward, eyes fluttering closed. The instant their lips meet, time stands still. Their lips fit together perfectly, sliding gently against each other with every small movement. Beca raises her free hand and rests it against the side of Aubrey’s neck, feeling the fluttering of her pulse under her thumb. The feeling floods her with warmth and sends electricity firing through her entire body, a sensation that’s only amplified when Aubrey makes the smallest of whimpers in the back of her throat.

The kiss ends naturally after a moment, and Beca immediately opens her eyes to gauge Aubrey’s reaction. Aubrey’s already looking back at her, expression tender and full of wonderment.

“Was that okay?” Aubrey asks softly.

“More than okay,” Beca nods, feeling the smile spread over her face.

Aubrey grins back shyly, and Beca gestures wordlessly out the door. They leave the restaurant, still hand-in-hand. They’ll talk later, but all Beca can see now is a future full of going on dates with and kissing the beautiful woman at her side.

She’ll _definitely_ be spending time with Aubrey in the apartment over break.

 

 


End file.
